8:42
by periberi
Summary: It was 8:42. oneshot, Quistis/Squall


Standard Disclaimer Applied.

_Summary: This was Squall's proposal._

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**9:03 am**

"Oh shoot!"

Quistis palmed her forehead in frustration. She was a woman of organization and order, and while she might not be the perfect one at that, she had always made sure that she would keep the imperfections at minimum.

She wondered why she was some kind of disoriented today to actually forget that the meeting started at 9 am _sharp_. And then she wondered why in all the times she had palmed her forehead before _that one_ had to be the most painful.

Impossibly painful at that.

Until Selphie blurted out the cause in an emotional _Oh-my-Hyne_.

She wore _a ring_.

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**8:21 am**

That had to be the second time she had forgotten. It felt rather _awkward_ and new—she surveyed her slender fingers in the sun, the skin and the marks of being _her, _and the _glinting band_—and she remembered she was _loved_.

Satisfied that she was all alone in the confines of the quarters, she giggled.

_He_ came out of the bathroom with a towel draped around his lower torso, and the ripples of his muscles clearly outlining her vision.

She had to bite her lower lip in an effort to stop the stubborn giggle threatening to escape from her, tempting to burst—

--and as _he_ passed by her, she playfully hid her eyes with her two hands, with the light playing on the sparkle of _her_ silver.

He smiled and gently pulled out her hair from its band like he always did.

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**7:43 am**

He felt that there were no words longer necessary; he comforted himself in the silence that had enveloped between them.

He looked at her, in the way _she_ ate her food, her hair in the wind, her stance fighting and composed, and fleeting; her innocence, it's childish and defiant and strong and in her smile, that _smile_ and her _eyes_, blue, crystal; he marveled and it was incomprehensive and distracting and it was everything—

"Have you thought about that for a long time?"

"…Yes."

---he had always imagined home to be.

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**6:59 am**

He could and would never get tired of her, in her sleep and curled lids and smooth skin sprawled out in his bed every _damn_ single morning of his life.

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**6:16 am**

She_ knew_ and_ understood_ and _knew_ that it was _past_ beyond five; but she just scooted herself closer to the _warmth_, accidentally hitting the leaned muscles with little force of her hand and her band and she gave in smiling into sleep when _he_ had not stirred a bit.

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**4:46 am**

He still couldn't believe it.

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**3:33 am**

Little boys with brown hair and blue eyes. And _him_.

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**12:43 am**

This was how _love_ felt. There was fire in passion and desperation; her body molded into his. She clung to him for dear life, it was a fight and a struggle to live now that she _wanted_ to but when he whispered her name, in breaths, panting, heaving and _hard_, it all came crashing down.

She was broken but he caught her pieces and made her whole.

She felt sleep coming into her senses but he caught her hand and found herself awake. In the most intimate of moments, he held her hand and squeezed it gently.

And then he gave a silent whimper. She laughed and he joined him. She knew it was because of the precious _silver_ in her finger; it hurt him.

And the_ truth_ just hurts beautifully.

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**10:05 pm **

She looked at him and he looked at her and she looked at him again and he looked at her again. They were where they were seated, not slightly moving, even after what happened. She stayed where she was as he stayed where he was but their distance _closed_.

The room felt like it became smaller; there was a happy death in suffocation.

"You should stop doing that."

He only smiled at her.

"Really."

"Really."

They just can't help to.

He looked at her again and looked at her unwavering.

"Come here."

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**9:01 pm**

She needed a drink. There were those moments that she wished she _had_ a drink. She didn't even knew how she was feeling, when seemingly it was just nothing then it was just _everything_.

She wondered if he was thinking about it all the same. He was always a man of his thoughts and his actions, but never_ words_ so words were just mere words when he spoke it.

Somehow that time, the words just stung. And tinged.

She knew he meant it when she felt her presence behind her, where she stood near his fridge, and her hand now grazed in his after she gripped the freezer handle almost too tightly it would break.

He slid the ring with grace.

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**8:43 pm**

Even his once spinning pen with his fingers stopped. He sat there, transfixed and she—she thought she must have looked like she had seen a ghost—sat there looking straight back at him.

In all his glory, he was stunned and beautifully he was, but he sounded sure like he had never been so sure in his whole life.

She had to replay what he _said_ inside her head, to keep her sanity or not, she didn't really know. She had never expected it, and it seemed to her that he didn't too, but it came and it was _perfect_.

He sat there transfixed, looking at her straight, and waiting.

In all his glory, she remembered what he had strongly resembled.

_A wall._

_Her wall._

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**8:42 pm**

"Marry me."

fin

**A/N**: I've seen this style somewhere, and I remembered that it was very effective because there was a buildup of anticipation while reading. I somehow thought that on some parts, you would have thought they were just having an affair but in the end you'll know, that this was Squall's proposal. (ha, I've repeated my own summary.) This was just a little experiment I had when I woke up, and I've never written a fluff before, or this straight fluff or whatever. But please don't sue me and one friendly reminder: please REVIEW. Cheers. 

**A/N 2**: Chapter 11 of Chronicles was up but I am waiting for a certain number of reviews which is just so close, believe me, so anybody clicking the page, please do review.

**A/N3**: And shameless promotion on my part: please read my other fics and tell me what you think. Cheers.


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